Needs
by ilexx
Summary: S1 oneshot. Set during IMALL. Harper's thoughts on that.


Set during IMALL, before Dylan knows of Beka's addiction.

It's Natta's fic - her idea all the way... 

And they're Tribune's characters.

**Needs**

What am I to do, Beka? What are **we **to do? Why did we ever come aboard this wretched ship? Why can't we just leave?

Oh, I know, why we can't... Because we're stuck between two giant black holes, trapped in the middle of nowhere, because there is no way the _Maru _could make it through, because there is only a slim chance even of the _Andromeda _making it in one piece. Because you're on flash.

Flash! Gods, Beka, why? Whatever made you think you could pull this through? What made me let you try? What made you think - once we were in trouble - that flash would help you out? How did you get this stuff? Who told you about it?  
According to what Rev said there's something wrong with Trance. Maybe she knows something. But she wouldn't tell. Not that she is in any shape to hold speeches, anyway. And now Rev too suspects that there's something amiss. I wish I could tell him what's wrong. But he'd tell Dylan, and Dylan... I don't know what Dylan would do, if he knew. At times he can be so... so self-righteous, so harsh. The way he left those kids alone to just fight for themselves. He scared me! Before that I would have assumed that there isn't much that Dylan won't forgive. I know better now: endanger his ship, endanger his crew - and he won't forgive. He did not forgive the kids, didn't forgive the Orca - didn't forgive the Restos.

What if I go to him and he doesn't forgive you? I couldn't live with that! But I can't live with you being on flash, either. And most importantly: I can't live without you. Yet if this goes on like this I will have to do so, because you'll be dead.

Beka, you need help! **I **need help with you! And that sucks, because... see, whenever I need help I turn to you, and now... I've never been in such a mess before, not on Earth, not with Bobby, never!

I'm scared of what's happening, I'm scared of Dylan, I am scared of you. Would you... would you really...? I mean, you wouldn't dump me, right? It was the flash, not you. That's what flash does to people: it makes them careless, heartless, cruel - and then it kills them.

By the Divine, I have to do something. Think, Seamus, think! I **am **thinking, dammit! And all I come up with are dead ends. And then some more dead ends. Followed up by dead ends. I wish you were a ship. I wish you were Rommie. Because them I can fix. Because then I could fix you. But I don't know anything about fixing people. We always had you for that. Or Trance. And now she's down and you... You are the problem.

I just wish I knew what's the problem **with **you. sht, Beka, how could you? What, WHAT made you do it? Is it really all that important to impress Tyr and Dylan out of their minds? Well, I've got news for you: Tyr is not impressed, and neither will be Dylan, once he finds out about this!

Oh yes, Tyr knows. Of course he knows. I suspect that he knew from the start, even before I noticed. He probably smelled it, heard the high pitched tone of your voice, saw beyond the lenses. And then he thought: _So what? _I never really trusted the guy, never liked him, and now... Now I despise him. He knows, but he won't help. He probably thinks that you can pilot us out of this better while on flash. And save us - save his ass. So he's all right with it. The bastard! Oh, I know, I know by now that you wouldn't agree with me. You're falling for him, right? Of course you are. Why, Beka? Why flash, why Tyr? They're both bad for you. They will ultimately kill you. Tyr maybe slower than flash, but still...

Don't fall for him, Beka. He's playing with your heart, he'll try to cheat with your life. And I don't think he's uttered a single honest word since he came aboard. But I do see your face, when you listen to his stories. You're telling then yourself stories of your own, knowing that they're not true, but still believing them.  
Those well-bred, educated phrases he pours on you (nothing like mine, I admit), the dreams he sometimes seems to sketch out for you (the two of you, I wonder?): they're like menthol pastilles - no good when it's not raining. It never rains in space.  
No, I won't talk to him. He won't help, won't move on this. Not Tyr - after all it might endanger his precious survival.

Would you really hate me, throw me out of your life if I were to tell Dylan? But then again: tell him what? That you're on flash, that you have deliberately put his ship, us all in danger for the Engine of Creation? Or was it not the Engine? Dylan seems to think it is about him. Is it?

You would never tell me. Not if I asked, not of your own free will, never!

Do you remember our first fight with the Restorians? You weren't trusting Dylan, didn't follow his orders, wanted to walk out on him. I had to argue you into staying and helping him. We've come a long way since...

The two of you, you seem to have grown so close, like two faces of the same coin, like you somehow belong to each other now, sometimes even excluding all the rest of us. It's not a love affair, at least I don't think it is. Not that I'd know, not that you two would know, for that matter. It's more like... I don't know... one of those ancient black-and-white Earth-movies: like Bogart and Bacall, yeah, that's what it's like! You wouldn't understand, would have no idea what I'm talking about, would ya'?

Whenever the two of you talk about yet another new plan: I can see your both eyes gleaming with excitement, see the new adventure shining in your eyes. And then you both seem so... at peace, content, comfortable - as if you could spend the night wrapped up in each other's thoughts. The easy way you share each other's views, talk about your - **his **ideals... It's like the way I talk about some parts I need for the _Andromeda_: it has a natural flow. As has by now the way you'd follow each other to hell and back, simply because each one of you believes every single word the other one is saying.

Coming to think of it, that's what he's doing now: following you to hell... The way he looks at you, Beka: as if you were another part of him. And you... you seem to know it. You've been counting on it, right? I can't tell him, Beka. I can't destroy his trust in you - and I can't take his trust away from you. Whatever he needs to find out, he'll have to do it on his own. Because I know, I really, really know, what his trust means to you. I am not envious, Beka, but I am sorry that his trust means so much more than mine or Rev's or Trance's. I understand it... I think, but - understanding aside - it still does hurt a bit!

What am I to do, Beka? It would be so useless to talk to Tyr. Trance is out, Rev and Rommie would only go to Dylan... And I have no idea what Dylan will do. But if he is to know ( and he **is **to know), I would rather have it to be me who tells him. Or you!...

I need to talk to you, Beks! I... I simply need you. Now more than ever before. And of all times now... now you're needing me!


End file.
